Hands Tied, Souls Free
by Videl Exumai
Summary: Harry and Hermione have always been friends, their hearts belonging to other people, but little do they understand that fate has always strived to bring them together. Harmony, Lemon, scenes of an erotic nature, Sexual Love Affair
1. Tell Me

Hands Tied, Souls Free

_By – Videl Exumai_

Warning - Lemon

_**Chapter One – Tell Me**_

_**One two three four.**__**  
**__**Uno dos' tres cuatro.**____****_

_**Rumba (Si)**____**  
**__**Ella quiere su Rumba (Como?)**____**  
**__**Rumba (Si)**____**  
**__**Ella quiere su Rumba (Como?)**____****_

_**Si verte que tu eres guapa,**____**  
**__**Yo te voy a poner gozar**____**  
**__**Tu tiene la boca grande**____**  
**__**Dale ponte a jugar (Como)**___

Uno Dos Tres Quattro - Pitbull

He drank slow, sipped nonchalantly at his expensive Muggle Champaign. The bed was smooth, soft and unbearably large. His free hand left his side to trace a fine track down the flawless, perfectly clear skin of his lovers arm. Hermione Jean Weasley nee Granger sighed gently at the touch, herself sipping her own glass full of the exquisite French wine.

"We shouldn't be doing this…" Hermione cooed gently, her guilt more spirited than felt with any real condescendence. Harry James Potter smiled at his sister in law, his thumb slowly reached up and playfully touched the fullness of her lower lip.

"I know you don't mean that…" Hermione winked with a gaze of pure seduction. Clad in nothing more than a pencil skit and too small alluring bra. She took another sip of the delicious wine before drawing herself closer to her delectable lover.

He was so different to her husband. Ron was… sweet, but he wasn't sexy, raw or passionate the way Harry was. Ron was simple, vanilla, plain, Harry was heated, romantic, a raw temptation. Once she, Hermione had envied her sister in law, Ginny Potter, Harry's rightful married wife. She saw the way he doted upon her, her and their children.

But somehow she knew, Harry wasn't happy the same as she wasn't. They had come to this moment following a number of circumstances. Harry smiled and softly drew away the distance between them. Slowly, he took the crystal glass away from his lovers grip, leaned gently over her so that his fine, athletic chest pushed against the swell of her breasts. Hermione moaned in passion, he was wearing it again, her favourite cologne. A Muggle fragrance, Aqua Di Gio. The smell was intoxicating, fresh, clean, no disgusting sweat or simple soap.

Harry was odyl, everything her husband wasn't and he wanted her as bad as she needed him. Harry placed the two glasses down upon the bedside table before drawing himself back. He lingered over her, his lips inches from hers, his intense, vivid gaze searing into hers.

His touch was electric, a heated trail of passion seeping down the beauty of Hermione's face, melded to the shape of her breast, petted gently, his warm breath teasing her cheek. Hermione sighed as his touch lifted up the allure of her skirt, found the V of her panties. Hermione's head drew back in a gentle shiver as slowly Harry's fingers traced the sweet line of her sex.

"Tell me you want this…" his words are a deep, alluring drawl. Hermione's hips buck, coxing him more, a silent, desperate plea.

"Please… more…" his thumb begins to massage the sensitive nib at the crown of her sex, body bowing instinctively panting, wanting needing. His firm, muscular leg slowly opening hers, intimately.

"Tell me…" his fingers slowly glide within her, arching, stimulating. Hermione's heart races in passion, feeling the strain of his own raging sex pressing into her side. Hermione's breath hitches, her hips moving to his rhythm forcing more of a sexual thrall though her body.

"Please Harry… I want you… please… make love to me,"

Slowly his stimulation ceases and Hermione's eyes open in frustration.

"Please… don't stop…" his eyes, bright, shaded gaze deep into hers. Her hand lifts to the bulge straining against his shorts. A low groan escapes deep from within his throat. His fingers trace her once more before slowly slipping out of his shorts.

Gracefully Harry climbs between his lovers legs, Hermione draws them around him desperately, pulling him deep. His sex teases her gently, carnal longing, sweet juices moistening his length. Slowly, lovingly Harry enters his lover with a long, slow thrust. Hermione moans, deep, stridently her fingers gripping the soft sheets of the bed. Her guilt screams at the sheer wrongness of this moment, but it is fragmented by the sheer, intense pleasure of their sex.

Sex always destroyed the guilt, easier with every encounter, oh how innocent she once was, innocent until that day so many months ago.


	2. Spank my Booty

_**Chapter Two – Spank my Booty**_

_When I was a kid I was a lazy child__  
__Always skipping school, I was really wild__  
__My poor old dad, he went insane__  
__Cos of his little bitch and her love with pain__  
__So my daddy, he spanked my butt__  
__He turned me into his super spanky slut__  
__I begged him for his mercy with tears in my eyes__  
__He didn't know that he just showed me paradise_

_**Spank My Booty – Lords of Acid**_

_**Six Months Prior**_

Sargent Harry James Potter paused before the office door of his friend and relation: Ronald Bilius Weasley. Knocking curtly so did Harry begin to push open the door, sighting Ronald stationed behind his desk, deluged beneath a wealth of parchment and paperwork.

Ron scarcely registered the arrival of his friend and brother in law. Harry whistled slightly drawing Ron's attention. Ronald glanced up at Harry, his gaze almost pleadingly towards his relation.

"Snowed under?" Harry questioned with a chuckle, Ron rolled his eyes and sniffed.

"Kingsley's got me working my arse off," so moaned Ron, "I've not seen this much paperwork since school,"

Harry heard the agony in his relations voice, felt an intense pang of sympathy for his friend. Standing before him Harry smiled.

"Clear off," Harry said gently addressing Ron with kindness, "I'll cover for you, you need a rest."

Ron's eyebrows rose, then a look of thankful joy erupted across his work worn visage.

"Thanks Bruv! I owe you," Ron and Harry clasped hands; Harry patted Ronald's shoulder firmly.

"Invite me and Ginny round for dinner if you want to pay me back, and make sure Hermione makes that incredible… whatever it was?"

Ron chuckled; cooking was defiantly _not_ one of his wife's faculties. Talented and skilled though she was, she was very much Career ambitious rather than house nurtured. Both Hermione and Ron had come to words of argument, speaking of their differing views on house pride and Hermione's lack of womanly skills.

Hastening towards the door Ron pulled on his coat as he did. He turned, thanked his brother in law once more as Harry sat down at his desk. They each shard a wave before Ron fled the confines of his office, content on home and a tall glass of fire whisky.

…

Harry had expected to find Ron's deluge of paperwork challenging, almost difficult, but really, Harry could see why Ron was taking so long with these reports. The work was monotonous more than difficult. A number of double-barrel dockets which repeatedly asked the same question if only worded somewhat differently.

The clock ticked by at a terribly slow pace, Harry glanced at his own watch, certain Ron's clock was bewitched, but to his indignation, so did Harry actually find, Ron clock was six seconds ahead of his own watch. Sargent Potter groaned and turned back to the dockets.

"Honey…!" a low, sensual, drawl sounded from outside the office. Harry's ears pricked, heard the turn of the door handle. Harry lowered himself behind a stack of paperwork and gazed towards the door through the rents in the stacks.

The door opened to reveal a woman, clad in a pinstripe too short skirt and matching, sensuous blazer. The alluring attire opened to expose large breasts encased in a tight, purple bra. Her wealth of long, chestnut tresses framed an exquisite visage, eyes framed by small, expensive looking spectacles. In the woman's hand so was held a clip board complete with pencil which she intimately sucked between her teeth.

Harry swallowed tightly, felt the stirring of desire hitch in his under garb. Hermione Weasley advanced upon the desk, stride sleek and graceful. It was only then that he noticed that she wore black, needle thin stiletto heels.

"Oh honey, don't you want to play with me?"

Harry sniggered lightly, heard the sensual purr in Hermione's voice.

"Sweaty, you work too hard, come play with- Harry!" Harry's eyebrows rose quizzically as Hermione gasped drawing her arms about her bosom in an attempt to conceal her allure. Harry sat back in Ronald's chair finger softly tracing the strong line of his jaw. He gazed at his sister in law; saw the red flush creeping up her neck and into her face. His eyes racked her, felt a smile touch his lips.

"Naughty girl, Hermione…" Harry drawled; saw her laugh with obvious embarrassment.

"Harry, I am so, so sorry, I just… Ron and me…?" Hermione stammered over her words, Harry cut her off.

"You were just really horny and you thought you'd surprise your husband while he was working late?" Harry questioned, Hermione's face fell with despair.

"I'm sorry, Harry, really I am. It's just… Ron and me, we aren't…" Harry drew around the table, heard the sadness found in her voice. Gently he crossed the office towards his nuptial relation. Gently took her hand in his.

"Is everything alright?" Harry asked, lightly Hermione shook her head.

"Ron hasn't touched me in almost three months. I know he is trying to be ambitious but… a woman has needs,"

Harry's touch softly found her face, framed her exquisite beauty with his soft, gentle caress.

"I understand totally," Hermione's eyes alit with thanks, felt his fingers softly trace the frame of her body, down to her hands once more. A roguish smile crossed Harry's lips.

"You understand… I can't let this breach of conduct go unpunished?" Hermione swallowed, heard the warning deep in Harry's voice. Dread heightened with her. Unpunished? But… this was a serious breach of professional conduct. If her supervisors found out about this, or even worse, the Minister of Magic, her chances of promotion were finished. She could even be sacked from the Ministry.

"Harry…! Please, don't tell anyone! Please!" Harry's eyes glinted maliciously as he shook his head.

"I'm sorry, but I have to think of my career, if anyone found out that I knew about this I could be demoted. You see the predicament you've placed me in?"

Hermione's face fell. Never had she known Harry to be so mean. Throughout their childhood they had shared everything together, feelings, friendships, war time trauma. Her eyes filled with tears, but they stalled at the dark look found in his eyes… He wasn't being serious, but his eyes racked her alluring form, drinking in her voluptuous body.

A light shiver trembled through Hermione as slowly she drew in near to Harry. Her hands found his chest, caressed dearly, seductively. His eyes glinted, she was playing along well.

"You don't want to tell anyone, do you Harry?" Hermione cooed, Harry smiled.

"You need to be punished," Harry stated authoritatively. Hermione squealed as Harry's hand came down hard and slapped against her ample arse. Her eyes glinted; a mischievous smile crossed her lips as she glanced towards Harry through impossibly long lashes.

"Oh… you can punish me… Naughty boy." Harry eyed Hermione over the top of his expensive spectacles.

"Yes… naughty girls deserve a spanking," Once more Harry's hand slapped down hard against the cheek of her arse. Hermione drew in a deep, sharp breath. Harry pointed towards the desk. Hermione advanced. With a sweep of her arms so were tossed aside the dockets to the floor. She bent over seductively, her skirt lifting to expose a tight, sweet arse. Her own hand slapped down hard against her arse drawing Harry's attention intensely.

"Come on baby, come and spank me?" Harry breathed, smiling at how much Hermione enjoyed to play. Harry advanced, his hand gripped, groped her generous rear. She moaned gently, a long, slow whine. She hissed as Harry's hand came down in stiff, hard punishment.


	3. The Start of Things

_**Chapter Three – The Start of Things**_

Warning – Lemon

"Oooh," Hermione purred her moans issuing with each stiff slap Harry brought down upon the tender cheeks of her arse. Slowly, in response to their playful punishment, so did Harry begin to obey the sexual desires welling within him. Gently, with every other slap, so did Harry begin to massage and grope Hermione's rear, stroking, caressing, easing the delicious agony found within their play.

Hermione shivered joyfully at Harry's tender caress, felt the petals of her sex slowly moisten, the stirrings of desire boiling deep within her core. Hermione wiggled her arse, reciting words of tease and passion while drawing his attention to the gentle, subtle sway of her rear. Harry smiled darkly.

Hermione gasped, all play, all tease suddenly shaken, fearful as she felt Harry slowly move aside the flimsy fabric of her purple thong, felt him slowly cup her lust moisten sex.

"Harry…!" Hermione cried out, startled at this sudden erotic turn of events, "What are you-"

"Shh…" Harry cooed, drawing forth a long, guilt strewn moan from his sister in law as his thumb slowly caressed her emergent clit.

"Go with it, Hermione…" Harry drawled, slow, sensuous, seductive in his tone as gently Harry inserted two fingers within his best friend.

"Harry… please… Nooo!" Hermione's hips, so charged with sexual energy, began to buck irrepressibly as she sort to draw Harry's fingers deeper within herself. Three months without sexual passion had incited an overwhelmingly responsive nature to Hermione's body. Her core welled with desire, her breathing once playfully simple now converted to deep, lusty gasps.

His two fingers softly grazed the outer section of her sex, his thumb still massaging the bud of her clit, his fingers coxing a desire strewn spasam from his sister in law. Harry was clearly talented, _dear god what did he do to Ginny_! Hermione moaned, her legs opening wider, accepting, wanting, needing. Panting, fierce, vibrant and pleasure filled forcefully Hermione kicked off the stiletto heel upon her left foot and began to draw her leg up, intimately caressing Harry's raging sex through the confinds of her sock and his dress trousers.

"Does Ron make you feel this good?" Harry drawled, his body slowly arching over Hermione's, whispering intimately into her ear. Hermione bit her lip, hard, felt Harry's thumb caress the crown of her sex, felt her climax building to a pinnical until finally her walls were broken, her will fragmented and she moaned the truth.

"Noooo!" Hermione screamed with pleasure. Her eyes rolled, the world shifted, all that was left with the nirvana of release. Hermione collapsed, willowed, boneless, totally and utterly drained. Harry smiled, lifting his love moist fingers to his lips. He sucked, deep and hard, tasting Hermione's sweet passion.

She breathed, chaotic, laboured as slowly she turned to face Harry. Her eyes were filled with guilt. Her eyes widened as she saw Harry slowly draw off his work trousers to expose his raging erection.

"Harry… please… I'm married…" Hermione purred, the guilt of their encounter serving more in the development of their pleasure than felt with any real conviction at such a moment.

"So am I, Hermione," Harry's fingers inserted once more into her sex, Harry drew from Hermione another long, slow, deep moan of ecstasy. He lightly shifted her un-supporting hand and brought it to touch his length.

"Tell me you want this," Harry drawled, Hermione sealed her eyes closed, her hand instinctively massaging his length.

"I've wanted you ever since Hogwarts, Hermione, and I can tell you want me."

"Harry… please…" tears strewn in Hermione's eyes, tears of longing and desire as slowly Harry drew behind Hermione, caressed her sex with his length.

"Tell me, Hermione," Hermione squealed in delight as slowly Harry began to enter her, pulling out teasingly to offer more temptation.

Hermione breathed, speaking inaudibly, shame and guilt tainting the desire she felt. Grasping handfuls of Hermione's long, chestnut tresses Harry pulled her head back sharply with an aggression both sexy and frightening. Hermione winced, turned her tear strewn gaze to face him.

"Tell me…!" Harry growled slowly forcing himself within her once more, "Say it loud!"

"Fuck me, Harry! Please, fuck me!" Hermione screamed, pleaded in passion, Harry smiled. Forcefully Harry slammed his length into her.

"Argh!" Hermione cried as Harry forced himself not even totally within her, but his length is far superior to anything she had ever experienced. He stayed still, allowing her to accept his considerable girth. He eased slowly out of her before slipping slowly once more inside of her.

"Again?" Harry breathes feeling Hermione shiver beneath him.

"Yes…" Hermione groans, pleas, slowly he moves, easing, acclimatising. Their slow, gentle sex soon grows to an intense, fierce escapade. Grabbing another handful of Hermione's long, sweat grimed hair, his lips found her in an aggressive, possessive kiss as he pounded into her.

Hermione moaned, her body rocked, the desk moving upon its solid foundations with the force of their sex, her hips moving in rhythm drawing him deeper and harder. Pleasure built slowly inside her, thoughts scattering, heart racing. Hermione issued one final, long, strident cry as she explodes in passion around her lover.

His seed empties into her. Hermione collapses, passion and ecstasy surging through her, drawing her to the end of her first, totally fulfilled orgasm. Tears begin to seep from her eyes as guilt taints the glory of their sex.

"I'm sorry," Hermione breaths a tender apology, low and inaudible, an apology to their lovers, knowing now that this could not be the only time. Harry's length still stood erected within her, gently he thrusts, drawing her over the edge once more, tonight was far from over.


	4. Clock Hands

_**Chapter Four –Clock Hands**_

Hermione shuddered beneath Harry, her legs weak, her loins sore, body awash with sensation. _How…? How many…?_ Hermione's legs willowed with ecstasy, her body melding to the frame of the desk beneath her. Harry drew back, cupped her sex gently with a single hand.

"Harry… no more… please… I can't…" Hermione pleaded, her will scarcely remoulding from the intensity of her multiple series of orgasms. Harry smiled lightly, placing a kiss upon the exposed flesh of her back. A light, tingling sensation filled her sex, her core. Hermione comprehended, Harry had just cast a contraception charm upon her. Hermione exhaled in thanks heard him pull his trousers up behind her, his eyes feasting upon the beauty of the woman before him.

"Do you want this again?" Harry questioned speaking in a low, dry voice, a result of his own roars of ecstasy. Hermione turned to face him, eyes wrought with longing, with passion, weakly she nodded. He smiled.

"I'll arrange the next time," Harry stated a sly wink touching his gorgeous green eyes. "You better scarper; Ron will be waiting for you,"

The mention of her husband's name evoked a crashing sense of guilt within Hermione. Slowly Harry reached forward, took her hands in his, drawing her shakily to her feet. His lips found hers in a kiss of passion. Hermione deepened the kiss, unable to cease her infectious infatuation. Her memories were of Hogwarts, how, long into her childhood she had longed for this moment, this sweet, sweet kiss. She had lost Harry to another, owing to friendship and fear, now, now that they had shared this moment Hermione refused to lose him again.

Harry broke their kiss, slowly, his touch reaching forth to frame her exquisite face.

"So beautiful…" Harry complimented, then, drawing his wand, so did Harry amend the chaos caused by their intercourse amidst the office. He issued towards Hermione a light, sly wink, with a resounding _crack_, Harry disapparated.

Hermione stood, alone and guilty within her husband's work chamber. She glanced down at her alluring garb of seduction. She shook her head in exasperation. Casting a wandless charm, Hermione transfigured her seductive attire to a less _alluring_ garb. She gazed down at herself, trying to conceal any sense of her betrayal. She nodded, believing that her newly transfigured robes would hide any sense of her intercourse, she disapparated, heading for home.

Hermione's house was empty, the curtains had been drawn, the lights amidst the Weasley's trendy east London apartment all extinguished. Her ears pricked, heard not the snores of her husband, nor sensed the presence of her children. Upon issuing the illumination of her living room, Hermione glanced towards the golden carriage clock which sat in the centre of the fireside shelf.

The clock was a gift from Mrs Weasley to Hermione and Ron at the birth of their first child. The clock was an exact replica of Molly Weasley's family clock, wrought with several golden hands, inscribed with the names of her family. Hermione glanced towards the hands of her children, each, both Rose and Hugo's hands pointed to the inscription _Cared For_, Hermione blinked when she sighted Ron's hand.

Ron's hand, the longest of them all, rested upon the inscription _Lost_. A pang of concern flooded through Hermione at the sight of his hand, surely Ron was alright, she swallowed heading to dining table to withdraw her smartphone. Hermione called her husband. He had long since learned how to use a telephone, but he was stumped with the art of texting or the technology of smartphones. Hermione had taken to purchasing for him an old fashioned, green hewed phone which did nothing but ring, possessing not even the ability to text.

Hermione swallowed, Ron wasn't answering, her gut clenched sickly, spiritual dread flooded her. Where was Ron?


	5. Taking Chances

Chapter Five – Taking Chances

Hermione found her husband in the early the next morning. Ron lay slouched in an armchair stationed by the fireplace, his body almost falling slack to the floor, lost in slumber. He was still robe strewn. This, Hermione found unusual for Ronald, who often liked to wander the house adorned in comfortable joggers and baggy tee. His snoring was atrocious, nothing more than grunts of slumber, a slight trace of drool seeping from his slack, open mouth.

Hermione's stomach churned, repulsed in comparison with her own married husband in to her lover, their brother in law: Harry. Hermione stepped past Ron quietly, venturing into the kitchen. From the filter placed in the fridge, Hermione poured herself a glass of cool water. She could still hear Ron's snores, it disgusted her.

Her loins still ached from the urgency of she and Harry's sex less than twelve hours past, it was a good ache, a moan of passion escaped her lips as she felt herself moisten at the thought of Harry.

Hermione sipped at the water, cool, chill to her heated thoughts, a roar of flame from the living room disturbed her fantasies. Stepping into the living room Hermione's breath caught in her throat.

The object of her desire, the sheer allure, the utter delicious sight of Harry James Potter kneeled before Hermione's fireplace. Emerald green flames softly flickered, dissolved about him into sparks and embers as he slowly erected himself. Running his fingers through his shoulder length wealth of rich, dark hair offered him the allure of a pagan god. His beautiful gaze found Hermione, found her and claimed her.

His gaze shifted from her to Ron who still slept on in the chair seemingly undisturbed, then, alight with hunger, back to Hermione. Harry pressed a single finger to his lips, ordering quiet before beckoning with the same finger for Hermione to approach. Raw, animalistic desire filled her as she instinctively crossed the room towards Harry. His arms enveloped her right before her slumbering husband, his hands coming to cup her generous rear.

"Harry, no…" Hermione whispered, cupping his hands with hers, trying to free herself from the seduction of his touch. "Stop it…"

Her tone was warning, not to him, her body alight with passion for him, but fear corrupted her passion at the presence of Ron, Harry merely smiled darkly, his caress crossing to the front of her pyjamas paints. With a forceful yank Harry forced down the restricting clothing, unveiling Hermione's teddy bear knickers.

Heat surged through Hermione, her cheeks flush, her heart pounding with the danger which laced Harry's exploration of her. Hermione froze, unaccustomed to such a forceful, such a sexy display of dominance. Her sex life had long consisted of missionary and pony all with very little passion, only motions. Now her heart pounded with fear and desire at the sheer risks Harry was prepared to take. Harry's eyes glinted; once more he shushed her, pointing once more to her husband, before dropping to his knees before Hermione.

Her legs opened with very little encouragement, his tongue sliding intimately to the exposed flesh of the inside of her thigh. His nose lifted gently, pressed into her simple cotton panties, teasing her sex, inhaling her scent.

"You smell so good," Harry whispered, complimenting. His tongue danced forth, caressed Hermione's already budding clit through her innocent knickers. Hermione sunk her teeth into her lower lip to stiffen a moan. Her fingers tunnelled through Harry's wealth of hair, so soft, so clean. Harry's fingers teased the waistband of her panties, slowly, alluringly, so did he pull them down, exposing her fresh, moist sex.

His eyes turned once more to Ron, his snoring had never changed, he was dead to everything practically, Harry shook his head, the time had come to please his lover. Harry's tongue danced across Hermione's sex, Hermione could not stiffen her long, deep moan.


	6. Silent Passion

Chapter Six – Silent Passion

Hermione unleashed a deep, throaty, restrained moan. Her world spiralled, the ground shifted and rolled, her foundations swept completely beneath her, falling boneless to the embrace of her expensive three seat leather sofa. Her fingers tunnelled through Harry's thick dark hair, her hips bucked, racking her deliciously moist sex into the pleasure of his tongue, _dear god since when had pleasure felt so good?_

Harry's body melded with hers, the fingers of his right hand thrusting vivaciously into her, a dark, alluring smile crossing his lips. Hermione groaned, an intense, needy moan of ecstasy which she fought desperately to conceal, in fear of waking her still slumbering husband perched less than a stone throw away, lost to the embrace of sleep. Harry's free hand stripped him of his lower garb, his jeans falling to his ankles, his sex hard, raging, seeking placement within her.

"Harry, no! Not here!" Hermione panted, her words breathy, needy, feared. His thumb caressed her clit, her legs enveloped him, her brain screamed in protest of the sheer risk they were taking, her heart longed to feel him within her once more, her body had long since given up the fight. His lips found hers, tasted her sweet, sweet kiss, he pressed ever so gently into her, Hermione's moan came in a shiver of pleasure.

"You don't want this…?" Harry thrust slowly, his expansive girth stretching her so deliciously, slowly he pulled out, caressed the entrance to her sex with his length.

Hermione's eyes opened in shock, felt him pull back. Her legs enveloped him, strong, lean, powerful. Her eyes met his; those intense green eyes glinted with pleasurable triumph. His hand seeped down her form, tracing a trail of flame across her still shirt strewn skin, he caressed her clit, guiding him into her once more.

"Don't lie to me, Hermione, I know you want this," Hermione's eyes closed in passion as slowly, accepting he filled her utterly. Hermione's eyes found Ronald, all of her will centred upon a silent, desperate plea.

'_Please stay asleep, please_!' Hermione pleaded of her husband, never had she wanted anything more than the feel of Harry within her, her hips bucked with his every thrust, her sex clenched, the leather of the sofa creaked and groaned in a seemingly strident fashion.

They kiss in a embrace of passion, tongues danced, explored, caressed, they fragmented together. Hermione moaned into Harry's kiss, he began his rapid, intense slamming. Hermione jolted beneath him, felt her moan in pleasure and pain beneath the onslaught of his girth. With a forceful yank, Harry forced open her pyjama shirt, his mouth falling to her small, erect nipple, his un-supporting hand gently squeezing her other free, bountiful breast.

Hermione began to pant, her own hand falling to caress her aching clit, drawing Harry's face away from her breast, her lips slammed into his in a desperate attempt to shield her cry of passion. Her body clinched, trembled, fragmented, slamming into her at the height of her pleasure Harry emptied his seed into her, hot, vibrant, bountiful. This pushed Hermione over the edge for a second time, her teeth sinking into her lower lip drawing forth a deep, intense bruise to the subtle body of her mouth.

Gazing deep into Harry's eyes, Hermione saw the heated flames of desire clear within their depths, but also saw a shaded, agonised pain which he attempted to hide. He saw the look of concern enter her eyes, concern for him, he drew away, out of her, his hand cupping her sex once more, ready to cast the contraception charm. Hermione was tempted to stop him, the thought of baring him a child a wonderous thought and desire. But her core filled with the tingling, knew this way was really the best.

Harry smiled, drawing himself across her body once more to kiss her tenderly. His eyes turned to Ron, Harry cocked his head in the direction of his sleeping brother–in–law.

"What about sleeping beauty?" so jested Harry, Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Get dressed, I need a shower," Hermione stated playfully, drawing her ruined pyjama shirt about her nakedness, Harry ginned.

"Want some company?" Hermione moaned as once more Harry cupped her sex with his hand. Hermione fought him off, sliding out from underneath him, almost falling to the floor in her haste. She winked, shaking her rear as she retrieved her night pants. Harry watched her go, a naughty smile crossing her lips as she stepped from the living room. Harry re-belted his jeans, his sex still raging as he turned to Ron. Harry shook his head in exasperation.

"You've got some woman there, mate," Harry breathed, slowly, Ron began to stir.


	7. Seriously Shag-able

Chapter Seven – Seriously Shag-able

"What…? Where…?" Ron stammered seemingly bewildered by his surroundings. Harry scowled slightly, curious. Ron's eyes blinked a number of times in confusion. Within Harry's instincts surged as he eyed his brother-in-law, how could one not recognise their own home? A haze of confusion gently dissolved from Ron, turning to face his friend and relative.

"Alright bruv?" Ron extended a hand towards Harry who clasps it in a brotherly fashion, drawing the still half-slumbering Ron to his feet. The collar of his simple works robes shifted, exposing the left side of Ron's neck. Harry frowned; bitten deep into the flesh of Ron's neck was a definite slag tag (Love Bite).

"Hermione got teeth?" Harry questioned, pointing towards the bruise, his voice darkly laced. Ron sniggered cupping his neck quickly, too quickly, guiltily.

"Can't keep her hands off me," Ron chuckled heartily, Harry's brow furrowed, concealing his suspicious behind a smile of playful amusement. His mind replayed Hermione's words of the evening previous: '_Ron hasn't touched me in almost three months_,' Hermione had seemed genuine in her heartache that evening, yet Ron bore teeth marks? Someone was lying and not only Harry and Hermione concealing their affair. Either Ron or his best friend was lying about their situation. The silence between the two bond brothers grew weighted, Ron was the first one to step away, he turned, lifting the collar of his robes, his trek directed towards the kitchen, a number of low mutters under his breath.

"Want a cup of tea, face ache?" Ron called from the kitchen, a racket of haphazard preparation sounding from the kitchen. Harry sniggered, following Ron's chain seeing his wizarding relative streaming boiling water from the tip of his wand into an overlarge Chudley Cannon's mug.

"Haven't you gotten use to the kettle?" Harry jested; a light chuckle escaping his throat at the sight of Ron's bemused expression.

"Why would I do that?" Ron questioned genuinely confused, Harry rolled his eyes exasperatedly.

"And you married the brightest witch of our age?" Ron's expression grew dark, haunted. Harry saw the look, an expression of insecurity shaded with insignificance.

"Put some music on, mate." Ron gestured to the Muggle radio stationed upon the top of the large, two tier refrigerator. "You and my skin and bluster (Sister) still coming to George's engagement party."

Harry, who had stepped towards the radio, pressed the scroll button, the static pausing as he sort a decent radio station. Turning when a station was finally found Harry turned to face Ron.

"Yeah mate, Ginny left with the kids first thing this morning, I just thought I'd stop by to tell you, I've had a chat with Kingsley, he has agreed to lay off your paperwork." Ron's cup plummeted from his grip, a spasm of anger flittered across Ron's face, but it was so faint Harry had to be sure he had seen it.

"Shit!" Ron cursed lifting his wand from the work top. Ron muttered a scourging spell united with a repair charm. The mug reformed in the air, the spilt tea dissolving away in a flitter of light.

"Cup was too hot," Ron stated, seeing the quizzical look in Harry's expression. "Cheers for that, hope this doesn't affect my promotion,"

"It shouldn't," Harry reassured, stepping forth to place a hand upon Ron's shoulder. He spoke quietly, gently. "What's up mate? Something's bothering you,"

"Leave it mate," Ron growled, almost threating, "It's none of your business," Harry's visage shaded Ron stood his ground.

Harry nodded in acquiescence, stepping past Ron to take his cup of tea from the worktop. From the radio so came the melodic blues of Gary Moore's classic: I Loved Another Woman. Harry in response sat at the kitchen's fine breakfast bar, reflecting on the power of the lyrics.

_My baby's gone and left me_

_Crying by myself__  
__my baby's gone and left me _

_Crying by myself__  
__I loved another woman, _

_Now I lost my best gal_

"Why so gloomy in here?" Hermione's cheerful, melodic trill sounded across ambiance that had settled between the two bond brothers. Harry smiled lightly, turning on his seat to sight her. He would have dropped his jaw in allure at the sight of her. Hermione's haphazard hair fell in a wealth about her waist in a torrent of ringlets. Her curvaceous figure was complimented by a figure hugging white bandage midi dress, complete with a plunging neck line. Her black, platform stiletto heels complimented the dress perfectly. She looked the optimal of sexy to Harry, Ron though scowled.

"You look like a slag," Ron snapped, the joy dissolved completely from Hermione's face, replaced by outrage and hurt. Harry's fist crashed to the breakfast bar in fury, Hermione shot him a warning glance.

"She looks gorgeous, Ron!" Harry stated standing from the breakfast bar to come and envelop Hermione in a single hug, his hand coming to rest alluringly upon her hip. Ron eyed the interaction between his wife and her best friend, his best friend; jealousy flooded his visage, sickly, haunted, troubled. Harry lightly kissed Hermione on the cheek, his eyes lifted over his expensive spectacles, Harry spoke darkly.

"What's wrong Ron, never seen your wife looking so shag-able?" Hermione's mouth almost slacked, turning her eyes met Harry's he squeezed her hip gently.

Ron snorted he thundered forward, stepping between the two people before him, parting them before stepping from the kitchen. They heard the door to the living room slam leaving Harry and Hermione alone together. They waited for several minutes. Convinced Ron had left them alone, Hermione cocked her hip, gazing towards Harry.

"Shag-able?" Hermione questioned, tossing back a wealth of her chestnut tresses. "Ever heard of beautiful or pretty?" Harry chuckled, stepping to envelop Hermione in his strong embrace.

"Those words don't do you justice, you look raw, you have no idea how much I want to fuck you." Hermione's visage flooded with pride, her fingers drifted alluringly to the front of her lovers trousers. Gently, with enough force to offer pleasure, Hermione squeezed the straining monster hidden behind the garb.

Harry's touch drifted to her visage, caressed gently, his thumb softly stroking her cheeks. Harry drew her near, their lips met in a kiss of passion.


	8. Exhibition Pain

Chapter Thirteen – Exhibition Pain

A strident crack issued within the fields of The Burrow. This amidst the land of Muggle's would have been enough to draw attention; within the wizarding world such sounds were so common it hardly turned heads. Stepping into tread beside each other, Harry, Ron and Hermione, the legendary Golden Trio, stepped through the pavilion erected amidst the fields and orchard to a volley of welcome united with greetings.

Molly Weasley, the aged matriarch beamed brightly at each of them, drawing them together in a deep, crushing hug.

"Oh, my dears, what kept you?" Molly questioned. A miss matched number of excuses sounded from each of her children, both legitimate and bonded. Her eyebrows raised questioningly towards her youngest son, enveloped him in a one armed hug, Molly drew Ron away from his wife and bond brother. Hermione smiled gently.

"A mother knows her own," Hermione stated, seeing Ron's defensive posture beneath his mother's coddling. Harry's eyes met hers, he smiled deeply. With a cock of the head Harry gestured to the drinks table found at the eastern wall of the pavilion.

A large, ornate champagne fountain dominated the table, both Harry and Hermione filled glasses. Harry toasted his lover, they drank deep, eyes fixed upon each other.

"Hermione, darling!" A whining, snobbish voice sounded from amidst the crowd of guests. Harry rolled his eyes, offering Hermione a slight shoulder. Hermione blinked felt two strong hands grasp her shoulders, followed by her vision obscured by a torrent of red hair. Lips touched her cheeks in friendly kisses, Hermione started, shocked to see her sister-in-law Ginny Potter clutching her tight.

"Hermione! Dearest, you look positively delicious," this, Hermione was afraid to see, not the same anyone could say for Ginny. Hermione shot Harry a concerned look at the sight of his wife. Ginny's body was willowed, thin to almost unhealthy proportion, obvious cosmetically enhanced breasts altered and disfigured her body completely. Eyes shaded, face caked with such thick make up Ginny looked positively orange. Hermione offered Ginny a smile.

"Gin? What happened to you?" Ginny smiled brightly obviously misinterpreting Hermione's concern for a compliment.

"Dearest, you know? Gotta stay beautiful," Hermione heard Harry's dark, mocking snigger. Ginny meanwhile clasped Hermione hand tight, smiling brightly.

"The Prophet and The Quibbler will be sending photographers here soon," Ginny stated positively beaming. "We've got to get the DA together; it will be great publicity for the Potter Brand."

"The Potter what?" Hermione blinked but Ginny had just sighted Ron who seemed to have escaped from his mother. Ginny cooed, turning to advance upon her elder brother.

Hermione eyed Ginny as she stepped, her ankles arching dangerously, her balance unstable via her ridiculously high stilettos. Hermione turned, eyed Harry sternly. Harry gazed darkly back.

"What happened to her?" Hermione questioned concernedly, Harry sipped his drink eying the sceptical that was his wife.

"She's obsessed with fame," Harry stated, shaking his head almost in disgust. "She thinks she is attractive, shagging her is like separating deck chairs with my dick,"

Hermione scowled darkly.

"Is that why you're fucking me now? Because I have curves?" Harry turned, took Hermione's hand in his. He squeezed affectionately.

"I'm not going to lie, you are more beautiful than my wife" Harry stated honestly.

"But I do love you, I've loved you for years, I just never-"

Harry started; Hermione clutched his arm as she had so many times before. The touch was so much more intimate, so much more personal. The lanterns within the pavilion all extinguished, plunging the party into intense darkness.

Murmurs and concerned chatter sounded amidst the darkness. The shade stretched on for several seconds, the party ambiance grew weighted with concern. A rushing, bright patronus surged into the pavilion, its light so bright that it illuminated all it past. The rabbit patrons rocketed into the air, fragmented into a thousand shards of light. Illumination flickered like falling snow onto the centre of the dance floor, illuminating a single, posed figure.

_Love is like a bomb_

The classic riff and intro of Def Leppard's Pour Some Sugar on Me sounded amidst the darkness. The woman, who stood illuminated, gyrated her hips in an alluring, sensuous fashion. With every gasp and sigh of the singer, so did the woman swing her hips, her tight, ample arse, enveloped in skin tight, water shrunk jeans, caught the eye of all who watched. Her back was turned to the majority, but amidst the fall of silvery light, so did all sight sleek, dirty blonde hair.

The patronus light flickered, strobed at the end of the riff and intro, a thousand shards of light streamed through the air, igniting the many lanterns once more, the woman's arm rocketed into the air, before pulling down slow index and little finger extended in the fist of rock. The woman wheeled, the guests gasped.

Luna Lovegood stood at the centre of the once flickering display, her beauty a wonder to behold. Harry, as did a number of other male guests, blinked, startled. To any who knew Luna was shocked. Gone was the air for dottiness replaced by a raw, sensuous figure, rich with allure, lacing hearts with desire.

Lovegood began to dance.

_Love is like a bomb_

_Baby come and get it on_

Luna's eyes fell upon Ron and Ginny, and with the second line of the verse beckoned with two fingers for Ginny and Ron to get it on with her. Ron's smile was allured; he drew in close to Luna followed by Ginny. Luna straddled Ron's knee, gyrating her hips, grinding her sex into his leg. Ginny danced with the erotically charged female from behind, Ginny's hands caressing, groping.

Living like a lover

With a radar phone

Looking like a tramp

Pack a video vamp

Demolition woman can I be your man?

Hermione frowned, disapprovingly at the interaction between Luna and her husband. Harry seemed to sense her outrage and enveloped her in his strong embrace.

"Come on," Harry spoke firmly, drawing her away from the sight just as Luna's lips found Ginny's. "We don't need to see this,"

Harry ushered Hermione out into the warm summer air to the main house of The Burrow. Together they sat upon the downy sofa, Hermione's head rested gently into his shoulder. Harry softly kissed her brow, her touch found the strength of his body. They gazed into each other's eyes; saw the same hurt and humiliation their partner's escapades had evoked within them. Together they each smiled, and drew the distance away from each other in a sweet, gentle kiss.


	9. Hatching

Chapter Nine – Hatching

Weeks, months drifted past for the two lust strewn lovers, Harry and Hermione, and to their total and utter frustration and disarray, they simply could not find a moment to which they could act upon their carnal desires.

Such pent up emotions, such built up and un-relented yearning began to lead to risky and positively dangerous escapades and interactions between the pair, amidst social functions and the sheer close quarters of work. Hermione herself was stationed within the same corridor of the Magical Law Enforcement as Harry, who was rapidly racing up the ranks to the position of Auror.

Many a time Harry would pass her cubical, their eyes would meet, longing would stir within them only to simmer un-fulfilled within the depths of themselves.

Hermione, seemingly to offer her own sense of tease, had taken to wearing Muggle clothes to work, themselves more alluring than a garb than the simple, all over robes which most wizards wore. She, Hermione had stated that this was because of her proud Muggle born heritage. Harry meanwhile suspected some other, more devious reasons.

His desire was pushed over the edge one evening, an evening when the golden trio all were putting in long, intense shifts. Harry had just finished a location report on a number of dark wizards suspected to be in operation amidst the northlands of Britain. He sighed, drawing back in his chair to offer himself a sense of relief for his cramped muscles.

His eyes drifted to the door of his cubical, smiling as he sighted Hermione standing there. Her hips were cocked, her smile bright and pleasant. In her hand so rested a plate set with a large, obviously well filled sandwich. She looked positively ravishing, smart, formal blazer opened ever so slightly to allow the swell of her well-proportioned breasts slight visibility beneath the low buttoned, tight fit blouse. Her skirt was formal enough to present the air of a smart, sophisticated woman, but short enough to be sexy and rich with allure. Harry swallowed deeply; Hermione offered him a light smile.

"Hungry?" Hermione questioned of Harry who nodded. Stepping forth, her stride sleek and sexy, Hermione settled down the sandwich before Harry. His eyes drifted down to the sight of her endowed cleavage. She caught his gaze, offering him a slight, sexy smile.

"Let me know if you want anything else?" Hermione breathed, her tone laced thick with desire. She stood up straight and turned to leave. Harry's hand caught her arm in a tight, needy grip.

"You know I want something else," Hermione turned, eyes flitting to the entrance of the cubical. Her ears pricked, knew that she and Harry were the only ones left working so late, aside from Ron who was half way across the section. Her lips lowered to Harry's, his touch leaving both her arm and his desk to caress her ample arse, his other squeezing her bountiful breasts through her blouse. Slowly, Hermione drew back, smiled and stepped from the office, Harry and herself filled within an intense, burning need. Harry could take no more; he needed her, deeply, desperately, as deep as an addict felt for their drug. Hermione was his drug, his deep, carnal addiction. He could wait no longer.

A plan began to hatch within the furthest reaches of Harry's now darkening imagination. A plan to which both he and Hermione could find peace, and Ron wouldn't hurt Ron, Ginny would be hurt however, but she was so fanatically addicted to fame Harry knew she would not risk her image by attempting anything stupid.

Harry wanted Hermione and he was willing to do whatever it took to engage their union. It all started with a visit to the minister of magic's office.

Kingsley Shacklebolt, minister of magic, greeted Harry into his office with warmth and respect. Harry, Kingsley knew, was amongst the most promising and gifted wizards ever to grace the halls of law enforcement. He was keen, intelligent and magically gifted. Kingsley had expected this visit much sooner than this.

"Yes, Harry, how can I help you?" Harry offered the minister, his commander and chief, a formal handshake before taking the seat offered to him.

"Minister, sir. I've come to talk about… promotion." Several long minutes past before Harry left the Minister of Magic's office, his smile broad and bright. He punched the air slightly, faze one complete.


	10. Temperature

Chapter Ten – Temperature

"You're kidding!" Ron Weasley exclaimed, the disbelief, the sheer shock evident in his voice.

Hermione, Ron's beloved wife squealed in delight, threw her arms about Ron's neck, kissed his lovingly on the cheek.

"This is great, Ron, you've worked so hard, you deserve this," Hermione stated, her joy was shadowed however as she gazed across the office towards her lover. Harry offered her the vaguest shadow of a wink, she smiled, understanding.

"Thanks love, Harry," Ron breathed, his self relaxing into the news of his newly acquired promotion. "When do I leave?"

"As soon as," Harry stated firmly, speaking with all the air of a proud relation. "You've got to head to France,"

"France...? You mean I'm on the Dolohov hunt?" so questioned Ron, a dark look past from Hermione to Harry, her concern evident, Harry nodded.

"You're assignment is not to engage Dolohov, just keep tabs on him, we need as much information you can acquire." Harry chuckled, lightly he patted Ron's shoulder as he smiled. "I still think you are a little green to engage Dolohov, don't be a hero just stick to tabs."

Ron snorted rely, turning Ron kissed his wife on the cheek before stepping towards the door. Ron turned, gazed towards his wife and brother in law, each waved as they came together, arms enveloping each other in friendship and pride as they smiled. Ron nodded and stepped from the office.

Hermione shuddered in pleasure as, with a gentle squeeze, Harry groped her arse through her pinstripe skirt. His lips found her neck, kissed, sucked, teeth nipping intimately, his will almost feral.

"Harry..." Hermione moaned, drawing his attention away as she gazed meaningfully at him. "Why the Dolohov hunt?" Harry frowned, his heightened body slacked.

"It wasn't my choice," Harry said gently, his touch intimately caressing his lovers supple curves as he explored her body. "It was the only job available,"

"You're devious, aren't you?" cooed Hermione, her touch softly coming to his firm, strong chest. Harry smiled, drew his arms about her, pulling his lover into a tender kiss.

"You're worth it," their kiss was passionate filled with all the pent up desire felt for months. Both Harry and Hermione smiled.

"Celebration," they each chimed as, hand in hand, they stepped from the office.

Magic truly was a wonderful thing. Thanks to the use of transfiguration the simple allure of Hermione's blouse and dark skit was instantly transformed to a royal blue sexy cut-outs dress. The dress was laced with sensuality; figure hugging, slit with incises at waist and breast to offer alluring sights of skin and cleavage. Her allure was so great Harry felt his sex rage at the sheer sight of her.

Harry, himself looked every bit as appealing as Hermione, clad in fine dress shirt and tight leather slacks. Eyes turned as the duo ventured into the central London night spot. The air was filled with racy music, strobe lights and lasers illuminated the darkness. Hermione instantly felt the mood of the music, her body swaying to the feel of the rhythm.

Eyes turned, gazed at the alluring couple as they ventured to the centre of the dance floor. A Sean Paul club classic sounded from the DJ, Hermione tossed her wealth of dark hair, pressed in close to Harry as together they began to dance. Harry, like most men, was clumsy, lost to the sheer sensuality of the woman before him. Hermione straddled his leg, ground her sex, intimately into his thigh. Her body swayed, back arching in an alluring wave. Harry's fingers explored, slipped intimately across the curve of her waist, the arch of her back as the chorus sounded.

_Well woman the way the time cold I wanna be keepin' you warm  
I got the right temperature for shelter you from the storm  
Oh lord, gal I got the right tactics to turn you on, and girl I...  
Wanna be the Papa...You can be the Mom...oh oh!_

Harry's touch was electric, the sheer desire emanating from the two lovers infectious as they fell into their own private session. Hermione threaded her fingers amidst her wealth of hair, causing its already wild array to fly. A burst of wind from the in floor vents billowed her locks, lifted the hem of her dress, exposing glimpses of shapely thighs. Their lips met.

The kiss was exquisite, wrought with passion and emotion. Tongues danced, explored, curled intimately together. Hermione turned, ground her arse into the strain of Harry's sex, itself almost indecently obvious with the tightness of his slacks. Taking his hand Hermione led him to a secluded booth stationed at the side of the club. Hermione forced her lover to sit, straddled his form with the allure of her form.

"I can't wait to have you inside me," Hermione cooed, lips inches from his, eyes caught within the depths of each other. Harry's touch drifted to the inside of Hermione panties, felt her warm wetness ripe for him. He lent forward, softly kissed her neck as Hermione shuddered, filled with forbidden passion. Harry's gaze lifted, gazed once more out to the world beyond. His eyes fell upon a single sight, a sight which filled his heart with dread.


	11. Rock the Redhead

Chapter Eleven – Rock the Redhead

"Look who it is," Harry's soft breath teasingly caressed the side of Hermione's cheek, whispers touching her face, her ear in a sly, intimate drawl. Craning about, Hermione attempted to sight the source of his words, the reason for his stalling within their heightened moments of tease.

Sex ground on sex, turning intimately Harry lifted Hermione from his lap, wheeled her until she lay back first before him, body melding to with his frame.

His fingers returned to her body, caressed Hermione's curvaceous waist, lifted a single hand to her sizable breast. Hermione's jaw would have slacked open at the sight which greeted her, if she was not caught up in such heightened stimulation.

There, dancing amidst the crowd of dancers, willowed body clad in skimpy bikini and _too_ short skirt: Ginny Potter danced seductively with Bulgarian superstar Viktor Krum.

"Harry…" Hermione moaned a product of shock and tease as the touch of his left hand drifted to the hem of her knickers. "I… I can't believe it,"

"Believe it…" Harry cooed, his lip twitched, his teeth gently grazed the lobe of her ear. "I see opportunity,"

Hermione's gaze turned to meet his, her smile slight, devious.

"Oh Harry, you are so bad," with a grind, Hermione slowly stood from Harry's lap.

_Baby grind on me_

_Relax your mind_

_Take your time on me_

_Let me get deeper shorty_

_Ride on me_

_Now come a sex me_

_Till your body gets weak_

_With slow grinding baby_

Ginny ground her arse, sweet, suggestively into Viktor's own raging sex. A look of seduction filled her eyes, turned in Viktor's embrace as her lips met his. His hand drifted up her too short skirt, groped her rear, tongues exploring, dancing, jiving.

Suddenly Viktor stalled in their kiss, drew away swiftly from his lover a look of shock and fear evident upon his visage. Ginny stunned, gazed in frustration at her lover.

"Viktor, what the hell?"

"Spooked, Krum?" stated a voice. Ginny gasped, wheeled, gazed into the eyes of her lawful husband. Her shock was made paramount at the sight of the woman beside him. Arms wound about each other, bodies pressed intimately close, Ginny choked to sight her sister in law beside her husband.

"Harry…? Love… what are you doing-?"

"Same thing you are love," to Ginny's shock and fury she watched how Harry's hand drifted to Hermione's rear. He squeezed almost viciously as she gazed from Viktor to Harry.

"Harry… it's… it's not what it looks like," Ginny attempted defence. Hermione sniggered darkly.

"Oh I think it is Gin," Hermione cooed her hand drifting to Harry's crotch. "You're doing just the same as us,"

"Hermione! What the fuck?" Ginny cried progressing menacingly towards her sister in law. Harry immediately shielded his lover with his frame.

"Ginny! You're in no position to threaten anyone," Harry stated factitiously, Harry's hand threaded into Hermione's as slowly Ginny drew back.

"I… I can't believe you're cheating on me," Ginny sobbed now gazing imploringly at Harry. Both Harry and Hermione had the tact to look chastised, though still they gazed steely towards Ginny. Harry gazed at Viktor and smiled.

"I think all four of us should speak further," Hermione said gently, stepping respectfully away from Harry. "Don't you think so, sweet?"

Harry nodded, followed by his wife and her lover. Together, Ginny and Viktor in lead all four left the club together.

Multiple pops and cracks sounded within the living room of the Potters residence as both sets of lover's apperated. Ginny, the moment she sighted her, immediately lunged towards Hermione, nails bared in clawed hands ready to rake, claw, fight.

All thought of understanding, any sense of guilt was thundered aside as Hermione acted in swift defence. Stepping gracefully out of the reach of Ginny, Hermione lifted her fist in a swift snap punch, sired from her training as an enforcement officer. The punch connected with Ginny's chin in a blow of devastation. Ginny collapsed, her legs willowing beneath her as she collided with the floor.

"Ginny!" Viktor cried in concern as he immediately rushed to the side of his struck lover. Harry enveloped Hermione in his arms, put a table's distance between she and his enraged wife, though his smile was dark, twisted in pleasure.

"Enervate!" Krum chanted, holding his hand across Ginny's chest. An aura of light surrounded her as the reviving charm took effect. Ginny, dazed for a second gazed towards Viktor, confused, the pain in her jaw paramount. Then fury returned and she arose hissing as would an angry cat at a foe.

"Ginny…!" Harry drawled, low, cautious as he shielded Hermione with his frame. "Don't do anything stupid,"

"Don't do?" Ginny snapped, Viktor easing Ginny to her feet as she wheeled gazing at her husband and his lover, "Bitch! I'll kill you!"

"You weren't thinking of loyalty when you had your tongue down Viktor's throat!" Hermione snapped stepping past Harry to confront her abuser.

Ginny growled, obviously chastised though her temper still smouldered.

"Ginny, I don't think you quite understand the situation," Harry said gently though his tone was filled with an air of menace, warning, conspiratorial. Ginny swallowed as she soon understood.

"Gin," Harry sad gently, speaking to her and her alone. "You understand, if the Daily Prophet, the Quibbler or Witch Weekly finds out that you cheated on me, it will destroy you,"

"Destroy me?" Ginny snapped, her laugh almost mocking in its tone. "What about you? If any of the tabloids are told of you two, you're fucked."

Harry smile was cocksure.

"Don't forget Ginny, I'm the wizarding world's saviour, I defeated Voldemort, I brought peace. Who do you think they will side with? The hero of the wizarding world, or a stuck up materialistic, unfaithful bitch?"

Ginny swallowed, her worst fears confirmed. She had forgotten, Harry did not strive for material things, nor fame the way Ginny converted such luxuries. She understood and breathed.

"I'm willing to offer you a scapegoat," Harry stated gently, his words assured. "We divorce mutely, privately; I'll keep my silence if you'll keep your own. You have the opportunity to stay glamorous, you and Krum can tabloid all you want, otherwise I'll destroy you."

Hermione, stationed beside Harry physically shuddered at the menace found in his tone.

"What about Ron?" Ginny breathed, nodding her head in understanding and acceptance. Both Harry and Hermione gazed at each other.

Ron could wait.


End file.
